The Hero
by eshesh
Summary: Somewhere in Grimmauld Place lies a yearning heart beating beneath a tonguetied exterior. Two seasoned men of the world take matters in hand. Features matchmaker Sirius, pawn Remus, bewildered Charlie, irked Tonks. Two of them pair up. I'll say no more!
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note:** I originally wrote a much shorter version of this fic for the Valentine's Day challenge at Metamorfic Moon, a Remus/Tonks community on LiveJournal. The prompt was the Love Heart message "my hero". Fans of P.G. Wodehouse will appreciate how much this story owes to his comic genius. And a huge thank you to Ssergit for helping me overcome a problem uploading new stories onto ffnet. That means I'll be posting the next Tea Time drabble very soon.  
_

* * *

**The Hero**

"No!"

"Lupin— Remus. Normally, I'd never ask, you see, but—"

"No!"

"Moony, stop being an arse. If you'd only—"

"Absolutely not, Sirius!"

"But— even for another Order member, Lupin?"

"How many times do I have to—"

"Come on, Moony, Charlie's a fellow Gryffindor! Think of dear old Gryffindor!"

"No. It's totally inappropriate for me to—"

"But, Lupin, er, Remus, er, he does say you've done it before—"

"No!"

"All I can say is, where've you left your Marauder spirit, mate?"

"Don't even start with that—"

"Remus, if I could just appeal to your better nature—"

"NO!"

"You do remember what it is to be a Maurader, don't you, Moony?"

"..."

"Er. And as you have done it before..."

"..."

"You're a Marauder, Moony, a Marauder!"

"Oh, alright."

Sirius began thumping me between the shoulderblades and turned to Charlie. "Didn't I tell you he'd do it? We were at school together, you know."

Charlie beamed at me, his eyes fairly bulging with gratitude. "Only wish I'd known him, then, Sirius. Always been a prince of a fellow, I take it?"

"The best. Some of the stories I could tell—"

"Er. Right, Sirius. But another time, eh?" Charlie dropped my hand, which he'd been shaking with a rather painful sincerity. "Remus. Er. Remus. Deeply touched by your willingness to help me out and all that."

"I told you, Charlie, Moony's a saint."

"Yeah. He has that... thingy—noble spirit, 's what it is. You can see it in his brow. All... all high like that."

"He's never let a chum down yet."

"Right. A hero!"

"Absolutely. Superhero, even. Break out the rubber suit! Why, the number of times this man has selflessly assisted pals in need—"

"Shut it, will you, Sirius? I've already said I'll do it," I muttered, shrugging off Sirius, who was still pounding my back. I rubbed a fretful hand over the aforementioned noble brow, which had begun to throb considerably during our conversation. "Right, then," I sighed. "Time to extract you from the hole you seem to have you dug for yourselves. Suggestions?"

"Just have a chat with her, Moony. Talk the lad up. Lay it on nice and thick with that old Lupin charm." Sirius waved his hand airily. "Literary allusions, poetry, flowery sentiments. Rubbish like that. And then, after she's been thoroughly sweetened, shoot her back into the kitchen to lover boy here. With a few well-chosen words—as suggested by yours truly—he scoops her up."

Sirius and Charlie exchanged a furtive grin, and I had a sudden recollection of the pair of them whispering in a corner after the last Order meeting. Fixing Charlie with a narrow look, I asked, "Didn't you already try this a few days ago?"

He flushed. After a quick glance at Sirius, he said, "Not exactly, Remus. Er. Well, yes, in a way. Sirius did give me a bit of coaching on what I might say. And... I was lucky enough to catch her alone in the library after the meeting. But..." He fell silent, clenching his fists and staring at a tattoo of some winged creature on his forearm.

Sirius smirked. "Tell him, Charlie."

"Erm. It started out well enough, but... As I approached the— the crucial question, I supposed you'd call it, I happened to look at her profile—have you seen it, Remus?—It's... She's..." He waved his hands vaguely, sighed, and tried again. "She's... nngrh." He began nodding his head in apparent agreement with himself. His eyes glazed over.

Sirius elbowed him sharply. "Keep talking!"

"Oh. Er, yes. Well. After that I simply lost my head and I— Well. I babbled. I don't know why or how, but I started in with first thing that came to mind and, er, couldn't seem to stop." He buried his face in his hands and muttered words that sounded vaguely suicidal.

"Unfortunately," Sirius sniggered, "the first thing that comes into Charlie's mind in a crisis is... dragons."

"Dragons!?" My mind reeled at the thought. It was rapidly becoming clear to me why this dolt needed help wooing a beautiful young woman. I yanked his hands away from his face and fixed him with a hard stare. "Let me get this straight, Weasley. You intended to ask Tonks for a date, but ended up discussing dragons instead?"

"Er. No. Not so much discussing. No. Not precisely, er, discussing. I just... I simply... Talked. " He massaged his eyeballs. "God. Ugh. I started with a fairly, um, detailed survey of the dragon subspecies of Europe, went on to offer an in-depth account of mating and nesting behaviors, and then touched on the care and feeding of hatchlings. It's all a bit of a blur after that. But I do remember that I'd just started sketching out a diagram of the Norwegian Ridgeback's principal migration route when she suddenly stood up and said she'd had a very long day. And she... well, she fled."

Sirius slung his arm over Charlie's shoulder and said bracingly, "No worries, now, Charlie. Your problem's been taken in hand by a seasoned man of the world." He glanced over at me and amended courteously, "By two seasoned men, that is." I stifled a snort at the admiring look that came across Charlie's face at this baldfaced lie, but said nothing. No doubt the dragon scales would fall from his eyes all too soon.

Charlie pounded a meaty fist on the table and asked petulantly, "Why are women So. Damned. Complicated? Take dragons, now. Dragon are dead easy. If I were a male dragon who fancied a female, I'd know exactly what to do! Breath fire across her lair to get her attention, raise my tail to display the colorful underside, and then vibrate it slowly while turning in a counterclockwise direction."

I closed my eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to block out this mental image, feeling a flicker of sympathy for Tonks, who'd no doubt been the recipient of similar information a few days ago.

"Ahh, but Charlie," Sirius said wisely, laying a finger on the side of his nose. "What you have failed to grasp is that you are not, in fact, a male dragon."

"Obviously not! But if I were—"

"But I you're not!"

"I'm only saying that if I were—"

"The point at issue—

I rose hastily to my feet. "So. She's alone in the library now, is she?"

Charlie turned to me with a look that was roughly equal parts dumb anguish and pathetic gratitude. Bit nauseating, really. "Yes, Remus. She is. And— and thank you!"

"Right," I said tersely. "Sirius, go away. Weasley, stay here and wait." I headed upstairs to find the object of this git's affections.

_(to be continued)_

* * *

** Author's note:** Reviews gratefully accepted! 

Will Sirius and Remus succeed in getting Charlie and Tonks together? Be forewarned that the next (and last) chapter takes a slightly tragic turn, at least for someone.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's note:** Thank you for your kind reviews on the first chapter. I'm sorry it took me so long to post this second and final chapter. I procrastinate. I'm insecure. I'm busy. But here it is finally, and I hope you like it. I think you will!  
_

* * *

**The Hero - Chapter 2**

"Tonks looked up from her parchment with a frown as I sauntered into the library, but then gave me a cheery grin. "Oh, it's you, is it? I thought it might be— well, someone else— er, coming to— to talk piffle at me."

"Coincidentally, Tonks, I was planning to do just that."

"Ah, but I tend to like your brand of piffle, Remus." She patted the settee invitingly, and I settled down next to her. "Fire away."

Taking a deep breath, I plunged straight to the crux of the matter. I suggested that somewhere in Grimmauld Place there was in fact a yearning heart beating beneath a tongue-tied exterior. Tonks's face lit up with a beautiful smile. Pressing on, I indicated that this yearning heart wanted to ask her out for Valentine's Day, but had thus far been flummoxed by her beauty. She widened her bright blue eyes and leaned closer to me, clearly agog to hear more about the damned idiot. I mentioned that the y. h. thought he might be able to keep the topic off dragons for a few moments if she would only give him a second chance to speak to her.

The smile slid from her face like butter off a crumpet. "Oh." She stared in confusion. "Why, Remus... That's very... That's so... That is, I... I didn't realize that you were speaking as a— speaking for—" She ran out of steam at this point, gave a squeak, and stared down at her knees, blinking rapidly.

She seemed quite overcome by the idea of a second chance with the Weasley wart. I offered her my handkerchief, which she took absently, and began dabbing at her eyes. "Er. Well. He's in the kitchen now, Tonks, if you'd like to toddle along to him. Eh?"

"Oh. Right. Thank you, Remus." She bit her soft pink lips and offered me back my handkerchief.

"Don't mention it. And, er, keep the handkerchief for now. That's fine. Really." I backed away, not liking to look her in the eye for some reason. And let's be honest: a hamper full of handkerchiefs would scarcely be sufficient if she was actually planning to date that goggle-eyed prat.

As Tonks headed for her tryst in the kitchen, I took the opportunity to slip out of Grimmauld Place. A pint or three at the corner pub would be just the thing to wipe the entire sordid episode from my mind. 

* * *

Returning to Grimmauld Place several hours later, I made my way somewhat unsteadily down the hall to the kitchen, intending to imbibe several gallons of water before retiring to my blameless bed. A scene of abject misery met me as I pushed open the door. I closed my eyes and opened them again, but the picture remained unchanged, although I began to feel a touch seasick.

Charlie was seated at the kitchen table, his head in his meaty hands. To complete the picture of woe, add an almost empty bottle of Firewhisky, two grimy glasses, and Sirius giving Charlie's shoulders a rough and manly massage. I considered shutting my eyes again, but didn't want to risk falling over.

"Just bad luck, Charlie," Sirius was muttering consolingly.

"Ergh."

"Could have happened to anyone."

"Ungh. Happened to me, though."

"Next time—"

"Won't be a next time."

"The times this sort of thing has happened to me—"

"Nngh."

"But speaking from experience—"

"Nnngh!"

"Try, try again, eh? Always been my motto—"

"Enough with your blighted mottoes, Sirius."

"Well..."

"There are times when one wants to hear all about your mottoes, you see, and other times, not so much. Not nearly so much. Besides, I told you what she said, didn't I? There's no hope."

"Yes, but... surely she was speaking in jest?"

"Ugh."

"There wasn't, say, a twinkle in her eye as she said it?"

"No. No twinkle."

Something about the foregoing conversation was causing a what-d'you-call-it to trickle down my spine. I closed my eyes. Mistake. Gripping the door frame, I held on until I was completely vertical again, and then cleared my throat. The two of them shied at the sound in a most satisfactory manner, and then immediately began babbling. Their attempt at airy and relaxed conversation was so spectacularly pathetic that one hardly knew whether to laugh or cry.

"So, er, Sirius! Great to talk with you again. But, er. Well! Must be going!"

"Right, Charlie. Drop by anytime! Always good to see a friendly face."

"Oh, er. Yeah! And, um. I'd stay longer but I have a letter I need to read. Er, to write, I mean— to write. A letter I need to, um, write. Mm."

"Oh, never does to put that off. I always say— but, um, fine. Well, be seeing you, mate!"

"Yeah, I'm off then."

Charlie sidled out of the kitchen, offering me a shifty grin as he went by. His steps receded rapidly, and I heard the front door shut. Sirius looked up at me, opened his mouth, closed it again, and then sat down. He poured the last of the Firewhisky into the two glasses and pushed one towards me. I sat down and said, "So, what exactly _did _she say to him?"

Sirius picked up his glass and stared into the amber fluid. After a long pause, he said, "Who?"

I waited.

He shrugged and said, "Tonks? Oh, well, you know how it is with women. Mercurial I believe the word is. Flighty. Just that she didn't... She didn't... I believe her exact words to him were, 'ever want to speak to him again in this world or the next'."

"What?!" I squawked. "But she was primed and ready to give him a second chance when I sent her in. What happened?"

"Rather obvious I'd have thought. Charlie Weasley happened."

"But... but..." I groped for words. "Um. Putting aside for a moment the fact that this blasted Weasley is a syllable or two short of a hex, it was a sure thing. Tonks walked into the kitchen and he... he _what_, Sirius? What in Merlin's name could he have done to foul this up so royally?"

Sirius winced. "I think it was probably the part where, as she walked into the kitchen, Tonks happened to notice Charlie and Hestia in a tight clinch, with Charlie's hands groping inside of Hestia's robes."

"What?!" I squawked again. I was beginning to feel like a duck. Or maybe a goose. Some species of large bird that squawked, at any rate. I downed half of my Firewhisky. "But... but why would he... how could he... What... What...?"

"I think you're trying to determine how even an utter loss like Charlie Weasley could get himself into a situation like that?" Sirius laughed. "Not but that I haven't been tempted to put my hands inside Hestia's robes myself. Many times." He smiled up at the ceiling. "Oh, yes, many times. But somehow I think my timing would have been a bit better than his was."

My mouth took a break, but my eyes continued to question him in mute eloquence. "...? ...?"

Sirius waggled his eyebrows knowingly. "He _claims_ Hestia ran into the kitchen in a panic and told him she had a nargle caught down the back of her robes. Being the gentleman he is, he was helping her to get it out. Rather weak, don't you think? But that's his story, and I suppose feels he should stick to it."

We sat in silence. Sirius: smirking. Self: slowly grinding a few molars. Finally, Sirius prompted me. "So..."

Breathing heavily through my nose, I said, "Someone needs to knock Charlie sodding Weasley's teeth down his neck and into his shoes for him."

Sirius nodded. "Mm."

"Someone," I continued, giving the molars another thoughtful gnash, "needs to reach into his throat, pull him inside out, and—"

"—make him swallow himself," Sirius finished for me. "I'm with you on that, mate."

"Someone—" I started. And then I stopped. After all, what was the point?

But Sirius finished again, "—needs to go talk to Tonks. Now."

"What?!" I squawked, for a third and, I sincerely hoped, final time. "You don't mean she's still here?"

"Library," Sirius answered succinctly. He touched his glass to mine and swallowed the last of his Firewhisky. "Have fun."

* * *

I poked my head cautiously around the library door. Even we seasoned men of the world have been known to come unglued when confronted with a girl sobbing her heart out over lost love. If met with such a scene, I was prepared to beat a dignified but hasty retreat. Happily, the woman scorned was merely frowning as she sat before a blazing fire, moodily tearing a parchment into tiny bits.

I slipped into the library wearing a conciliatory and sympathetic smile.

"Oh, er, Tonks. There you are. Yes. I say, er, hrm. Let me just say that the man's a miserable worm, Tonks, a worm, who— who— who toys with women's affections and then tosses them aside like a— like a— er, soiled glove."

Feeling that this hadn't quite come up to my usual standards, I tried again. "Shall I—" I paused to reflect on the total body mass of said miserable worm, "—that is, shall Sirius and I pound him into a jelly for you? Only say the word and it's done."

Tonks lips twitched. "My hero. 'S'alright, though. I'm fine."

She began tossing the shredded parchment into the hearth. At my curious look, she explained, "Map. Present, sort of, from— you know. I think it shows the principal migration routes of the--" She squinted at one of the tiny scraps. "—Norwegian Ridgeback."

I flopped down onto the settee beside her. "I truly am sorry about this, and I do feel somewhat responsible. I don't know what induced me to behave like a—" matchmaker? go-between? cupid? "—like an absolute ass."

She gave a little laugh. "Remus, do you know who you remind me of? The hero of that old romance who wooed a woman for his friend. Who was it...?"

"Cyrano?" I suggested, hiding my nose with a casual scratch. The fellow had come to a sticky end, as I recalled.

She laughed. "No. Close, but not quite. I was thinking of... Erm. That pilgrim. Now what was his name? Oh! John Alden."

"Don't know the bloke, I'm afraid."

Her eyes sparkled at me. "Oh, surely you remember him, Remus? Like Cyrano, he courted on behalf of his friend. But, d'you know? In the end, the woman lost her patience and told him he needed to... speak for himself."

"Oh..." I wrinkled my brow in concentration. There seemed to be a subtle message in this, I felt.

"So, Remus." She batted her eyelashes.

_Ah._ "Er. Tonks."

"Yes, Remus?"

"About Valentine's Day. There's something I'd like to ask you..."

.

_The end  
_

* * *

** Author's note:** Reviews gratefully accepted! 

My undying thanks to that absolute genius P. G. Wodehouse, my favorite author. Any humor in this story is much more due to him than to me. Credit is also due to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow for his story of John and Priscilla and to Edmond Rostand for penning the saga of Cyrano and Roxane.

Now... please clickie on that review button down there. :)


End file.
